


Coke and Sympathy

by Syrenslure



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-20
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:16:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syrenslure/pseuds/Syrenslure
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander and Tara find comfort with each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coke and Sympathy

**Author's Note:**

> This is a response to a gloveslap from Ragna on the YGTS? list.
> 
> Inspiration: Let it Bleed by The Rolling Stones
> 
> Timeline: Post-Hell's Bells. Contains spoilers for all episodes to that point (specifically Family 5.6 and Hell's Bells 6.16).
> 
> 11 April 2004

"How did you find me?"

"It wasn't hard. You told me that you came here when things got bad."

"Why..." the question trailed off. "No one else..."

"Blinders," Tara answered quietly, "They don't always see. You know?"

"Yeah." Xander opened the door the rest of the way and allowed her to precede him down the rickety steps into the basement.

"They both sat on the cool concrete floor, against the cinder block wall.

Xander didn't turn on the lights and she didn't ask, both preferring the shadows and the dim natural light of the small windows above their heads.

Tara reached into the brown paper sack beside her and pulled out two bottles. She handed one to Xander, and kept the other for herself. "Coke - in glass bottles - the real thing."

Xander lifted his in salute and nodded. "Cheers."

They were both silent for a bit, sitting, drinking.

After a while, Xander lowered his bottle to the floor, between his legs, and picked at the opening with his thumbnail. "Is everyone mad at me?"

She thought about it. "No, I don't think they're mad. They don't understand - but they support you."

"Yeah. Xander-the-screw-up did it again."

She wasn't sure what to say.

A year and a half ago, it had been the other way around.

She had been at the Espresso Pump, nursing her mochaccino and her heart. Xander had walked up to her, obviously uncomfortable, but determined.

Finally, he had broken the silence. "It's alright, you know. We've all done it; we've all screwed up and we're all still here. I think it's a right of passage." he smiled goofily for a moment. "Welcome to the club. Your secret decoder ring is in the mail."

"I didn't mean for it to happen. I didn't want anyone to get hurt.

"I just... I think I wanted it to just go away."

"Yeah. But hey, when Buffy said that we were a family, no one said that we were a well-adjusted family."

As if to lighten the mood, Xander quoted, "We're all disturbed! And if not, why not?!" Tara gave a little smile as she recognized the line from a recent movie night with Dawn.

They were silent for a bit, until Xander spoke again. "We aren't our parents. We aren't even what they try to make us be."

Tara had nodded and looked down into her coffee.

Now, it was a familiar ritual, as she reached out to comfort him. He accepted, sinking into the touch. He shifted into her arms, accepting the embrace, the same unconditional support that he had offered her after her family had left Sunnydale. They were kindred spirits again.

Tara spoke softly, "I love Willow. You know?"

"Yeah, I love her too."

"And you love Anya..."

"Yes, but things are ... I don't know ... complicated."

Tara laughed lightly, "Yeah... 'complicated'.

"I love Willow, but I can't be with her right now. Maybe... maybe you can love Anya and not be ready to spend forever with her, right now."

"Yeah..." he spoke softly, his voice sad.

He hugged her tightly, as she looked down at her hands. He leaned in, as if to kiss her forehead. She could feel him moving in, and lifted her head to meet his eyes. He hesitated only a fraction of a second, but it was too late. Their lips brushed against each other.

It wasn't the first time that they had kissed.

The last time he had led her here, stopping at the corner store, along the way. They had sat on the dusty floor, backs to the wall, not wanting to sit on the foldout bed that was the room's only remaining furnishing, since he had moved out a few weeks before. They had sipped cold cokes and talked late into the night.

He had joked as he offered her the first bottle, "I'd offer you something stronger, but I've learned that trying to drown your problems - probably isn't the best way to go." As if on cue, a loud thump and muffled yelling erupted above them he shrugged, but she could see the small flinch in his eyes.

"It's still home. I have my own place now, but it's nice to have some place to go back to when things get bad. They usually don't even know that I am here. It's peaceful.

"Well, relatively so," he had said, as the noises from above continued.

They were still kissing, she realized, as she surfaced from her memories. She was leaning into him. His hands were on her shoulders, in her hair, pulling her closer.

At her compliance, he shifted one hand down to gently cup her breast. She was less surprised by his actions than by her own mirroring response and her hand clutching at his chest. She kept trying to get closer.

A current seemed to arc between them and she felt and overwhelming need to connect, to complete the circuit between them. She threaded her hand through his thick, dark hair, even as his was tangled in her long, blonde locks.

Closer.

Last time they had felt this attraction, they had jumped back, as if electrocuted, and stared at each other. They had stumbled over words, each trying to find a way to apologize, to pretend that nothing had happened. She had lowered her eyes and quirked her lips into a wry smile. He had lifted his shoulders and shook his head lightly to indicate that he didn't know either.

So, when she had settled back down and buried her head in his shoulder, he had sighed and tightened his arms around her. It would be alright.

It was. They had accepted it for what it was - a bit of comfort, a little coke and sympathy.

This time, though, she didn't back away. She faced him and moved to straddle his lap, without breaking off the kisses. Her long skirt rode up, so that she could get close to him. As she settled into his lap, the juncture of her thighs came to rest on his denim-covered erection.

It stunned them both for a moment and they stared deeply at each other, both drawing ragged breaths.

Tara took the initiative with unaccustomed boldness, because she knew that he would not. She grasped the hem of her shirt and carefully lifted it over her head, monitoring his reaction as well as she could.

The fire that seemed to burn in his gaze surprised her, made her feel like a siren, like Aphrodite incarnate. She leaned in and pressed her lips tightly to his. The kiss was a parody of its apparent chastity.

They never left the floor. The abandoned bed was a no man's land of normalcy, a shabby imitation of romance. This was cold and hot, security and abandonment, passionate and comfortable. It was them, and theirs and perfectly at home on a dusty, concrete floor.

Afterwards, they lay still and quiet until the chill of the evening began to creep up on them. Then, they dressed in silence and sat back against the wall.

Tara reached over and handed him another coke.

He smiled in a way that was reminiscent of his usual self, and looked into her eyes.

"Thank you."

  
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

This story archived at <http://panthermoon.com/dreaming/viewstory.php?sid=19>  


**Author's Note:**

>  **Gloveslap #124** : Syrenslure got Slapped  
>  Proposed by Ragna.  
> "I want a Xander/Tara fic. To make it easier for you, it has to be Tara POV. It can be fluffy, it can be smutty, but they *have* to be together. Include a reference to Willow and Anya, a moment of facing hard truths and this quote from Pump Up The Volume: "We're all disturbed! And, if not, why not?!""


End file.
